As Simmons drove the sedan, McConnell looked at the sheet of paper. The following names were printed in alphabetical order:
Theodore Brooklyn
Patricia Heller
Anton Marks
Sheila Marks
David Ross
McConnell read the list again. Then he turned toward Simmons. “Simmons, let’s see Doctor Ross.”
Simmons glanced at him. “Now?”
“Yes. I need to ask him some questions.”
“Okay.”
McConnell stared out the window. He noticed the street signs and realized they were not far from Dr. Ross’s office. He glanced through the side window and saw a woman spanking a boy’s bottom. The boy was crying.
“Did you see that?” McConnell asked.
Simmons glanced at McConnell. “See what?”
“That woman and boy?”
“No. What were they doing?”
“The woman was spanking the boy’s bottom, which is something you don’t see very often, especially on a city street.”
“You’re right about that. Was he crying?”
“Yes.”
Simmons grunted and laughed. “Reminds me of when I was a child.”
“How’s that?”
“If I did something I wasn’t supposed to do, my mother would grab my hands and look at me. Then she would proceed to explain what I had done wrong with her right hand on my bottom.”
McConnell smiled. His mother had done something similar to him. “I can relate to that.”
“It’s funny. My mother was always explaining something to me.”
McConnell laughed. “Sounds like my mother.”
Simmons glanced at McConnell and noticed that he had a sad expression on his face. “What’s wrong?” he finally asked.
“Nothing, really. I was just thinking about my mother. She passed away last year.”
“I’m sorry.”
McConnell looked at Simmons, but he didn’t say anything. Then he turned back toward the side window.
Simmons glanced at the street sign and realized that Dr. Ross’s office was two blocks away. He pressed slightly on the accelerator. Although he thought McConnell would say something like slow down, he noticed that McConnell was deep in thought.
* * *
Simmons parked the car. McConnell opened the door and stepped out. Simmons caught up to McConnell before he opened the office door and stepped inside. Simmons immediately followed.
McConnell explained who he and Simmons were as he pulled out his wallet and showed his badge. Then he informed the nurse that they needed to see Dr. Ross.
The nurse nodded and left the check-in counter.
McConnell watched the nurse open a door and enter a hallway. Then he turned toward Simmons who was glancing at several patients sitting in chairs. He turned back as the nurse approached them.
“He will be with you in a few minutes, Detective,” she said.
“Thanks,” he said.
McConnell and Simmons approached the waiting area and sat down. They did not speak. Rather, they flipped pages in magazines and glanced at their watches.
After ten minutes, the nurse called, “Detective McConnell, Doctor Ross can see you now.”
“Thank you,” he called back.
McConnell and Simmons entered the sanitized office and noticed that Dr. Ross was on the telephone. They sat down and waited patiently. Finally, Dr. Ross put down the receiver. “Detective McConnell, Detective Simmons,” he said. “I understand that you need to see me?”
McConnell nodded and glanced around the office. “That’s correct, Doctor Ross. I need to ask you a few questions.”
“Okay,” Dr. Ross said, glancing at his watch.
“Doctor Ross, when you were at Carrington University, were you a member of the Paradise Coven?”
Dr. Ross bit his lower lip as he thought about the question. “Yes, Detective.”
“What was the purpose of the Paradise Coven?”
Dr. Ross leaned back in his chair. “I’d say that the purpose was to have each member study certain notes.”
“For what reason?” McConnell asked.
“So he or she could ask questions.” Dr. Ross leaned forward and added, “Each member was assigned certain subjects. Then at the next meeting each member would ask questions about the subject he or she was assigned. This practice helped every member learn about various subjects within a relatively brief period of time.”
“Did the club practice black magic?” McConnell asked.
Dr. Ross leaned back and laughed. “Are you serious, Detective?”
McConnell nodded.
Dr. Ross studied the expression on McConnell’s face before he replied, “No.”
“Did any member wear black or dark clothing most of the time?” McConnell asked.
Dr. Ross glanced at Simmons who was staring at him. Then he glanced at the floor. “Not to my knowledge.” He looked at McConnell and smiled. “Of course, one or two may have, especially after the rumors.”
“Rumors?” Simmons asked. “What rumors?”
Dr. Ross looked at Simmons and smiled. “The rumors about the club being satanic.”
“Who started the rumors?” McConnell asked.
“Doctor Anton Marks.”
“Why?” Simmons asked.
“Because Doctor Marks learned that other graduate students desired to join the group.”
“I’m sorry, Doctor Ross, but I’m confused,” McConnell said. “If you don’t mind, please explain.”
“Of course. Doctor Marks founded the group for one purpose. That purpose was to help others as well as himself earn higher grades. He realized that a system would help him learn more, faster. When he presented his idea to me, I was impressed. And so were the others. When most of the members achieved higher scores on tests, other graduate students desired to become members of the group. Several asked Doctor Marks and other members about joining the group. That’s when Doctor Marks started the rumors. He believed that a large group would be counterproductive.”
“Like the incident with the bat?” McConnell asked.
Dr. Ross smiled. “You know about that?”
McConnell nodded.
“Do you know about the club having its meetings at Edgar Allen Poe’s grave?” Dr. Ross asked.
McConnell nodded.
“Another rumor.”
“What about the stories in the university paper?” McConnell asked.
“At first, Doctor Marks avoided―I can’t think of her name―a female reporter. Then he decided that it would be to the group’s advantage if he let her interview him. He was right. The stories were very effective. No one bothered Doctor Marks or any other member again about joining the group.”
McConnell shook his head. For some reason he felt sorry for Roxanne Majors. He changed the subject. “I realize that Patricia Heller was a member?”
Dr. Ross leaned forward. “Yes, Patricia Heller was a member.”
“I understand that she was murdered?” McConnell asked.
Dr. Ross nodded. “Yes, she was.”
“Do you know who killed her?”
Dr. Ross shook his head. “No, of course not.”
“Do you think Doctor Marks could have killed her?”
Dr. Ross sat erect in his chair. “Are you joking, Detective?”
McConnell shook his head. “No, Doctor Ross, I’m very serious.”
Dr. Ross shook his head. “No. Doctor Marks was in love with Patricia Heller. They were to be married.”
McConnell nodded. “What about Sheila Marks?”
“What about her?”
“Was she a member of the group?”
“Yes. That is, until she dropped out of school.”
“Then she knew Patricia Heller?”
Dr. Ross nodded. “Yes, she knew Patricia. Why?”
“Had she dated Doctor Marks before Patricia?”
Dr. Ross glanced momentarily at the ceiling. Then he scratched the top of his head with his right hand. “Yes, I believe they dated for several weeks. Why?”
“Do you remember when Doctor Marks dated Patricia?”
“Yes.”
“Do you remember what Sheila was like when Doctor Marks started dating Patricia?”
Dr. Ross scratched his chin with his right hand. “She seemed perturbed for a few weeks. In fact, she stopped coming to the meetings.”
“What about after Patricia’s death? Did she come to the meetings?”
“Not at first. In fact, she didn’t come to the meetings until Doctor Marks started seeing her again.”
“Do you know if she liked Patricia, I mean, before Patricia started seeing Doctor Marks?” McConnell asked.
“Well, they talked at the meetings, but I never saw them together on campus.”
“Do you think Sheila could have killed Patricia?” McConnell asked.
Dr. Ross glanced at Simmons who was still staring at him before he shook his head. “No, of course not.”
“Doctor Ross, Patricia was about to marry the man Sheila loved.”
“That’s true, I guess, but I don’t think Sheila could kill anyone.”
“Why not?” Simmons asked.
Dr. Ross looked at Simmons. “Her character, Detective. Sheila’s not a vindictive person.”
“How do you know, Doctor?” Simmons asked.
Dr. Ross studied Simmons for a minute before he replied. “I guess I don’t, Detective.”
“Thanks for your time, Doctor,” McConnell said.
“You’re welcome.”
McConnell and Simmons left the office. They walked to the car and got in. When Simmons closed the door, he turned toward McConnell. “Do you think Sheila Marks murdered Patricia Heller?”
McConnell looked at him. “Yes. Yes, I do.”
Simmons stared through the windshield for a minute before he turned the key. As the engine came to life, he turned toward McConnell. “Where to?”
“I think you know, Simmons.”
“Doctor Brooklyn’s office?”
McConnell nodded.